


i've had no love like your love (from nobody)

by TheBoyWhoWalksInTheLight



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Angst, Author having to draw stickman diagrams of said cuddle piles to make sure they make sense, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Sharing Clothes, cuddle piles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:14:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28855644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBoyWhoWalksInTheLight/pseuds/TheBoyWhoWalksInTheLight
Summary: Three times Julie borrows the phantoms' clothes + one time they borrow hers.
Relationships: Alex Mercer & Julie Molina & Luke Patterson & Reggie Peters, Julie Molina/Luke Patterson
Comments: 29
Kudos: 287
Collections: Kelly's Picks





	i've had no love like your love (from nobody)

**Author's Note:**

> Not me posting this at 2AM with 7% battery on my computer.
> 
> I love Julie and the Himbos so much and I just love to see them taking care of each other. Please enjoy :)

(1)

Okay. So Julie loves the studio. She does! Being in there makes her feel close to her mom. And it's where the boys hang out the most (although they'd been spending an increasing amount of time in the house now that Ray and Carlos are in the know).

But it gets so. Fucking. Cold. Especially on long winter nights. Sometimes she forgets that the studio is a glorified garage. Insulation? Never heard of her.

So it is on one such night that she finds herself there, shivering, but too stubborn and too distracted to make the journey inside to find a jumper. She's so close to finishing the lyrics to this song - she just needs to make some adjustments and then it'll be perfect. She wants to get it done before Luke and the others get home so she can show him. Them. But it's just not quite right yet.

Her concentration is rocked when a violent shiver rattles through body. With a deep, heartfelt sigh, she pushes away from her lyric book where it sits on top of the piano. Glancing around the room for any options - perhaps a blanket she can wrap around her shoulders, a stray sock, a particularly large leaf, she'll take anything - her eyes land on a puddle of pink fabric that had fallen off the side of the couch. With a quick smile, she strides over to it, pulling it on.

Alex, of course, is much taller and broader than her so it hangs down low, brushing her thighs, sleeves well and truly past her hands. She doesn't mind being so completely swallowed by the fabric though, because it's warm and it's been softened by age and wear. And it smells like Alex. Like laundry detergent and the beach and just a little bit of sweat. So she pulls the hood up around her face, containing her fraying braids.

She breathes in and out, revelling in the comfort it brings. The muscles of her shoulders, which had been tensed in concentration, relax. After a couple more breaths she sticks the tips of her fingers out of the sleeves - just enough to be functional.

She returns to the piano to continue her work. As she looks over at what she'd written, suddenly words fall into place. She begins scribbling furiously, new fire in her bones.

\--

When the boys return, they are greeted by what appears to be a shapeless pink blob sitting on the piano bench and slumped against the lid. The only discernible feature is a mass of frizzy hair peeking out of the hood. Luke and Reggie snicker a little at the sight but Alex feels his heart swell to press at his ribs.

Moving towards her, he looks over his shoulder and jerks his head towards the couch. But the boys already know. They're folding it out into a bed. None of them want to disturb Julie if she's sleeping peacefully so it had become an unspoken agreement that she could just stay the night in the studio with them if that was where she happened to fall asleep.

Alex approaches Julie. Gently, he gathers her into his arms, manoeuvring her into a bridal carry, settling her head against his chest. She snuffles a bit but doesn't wake.

Slowly, he lowers her down onto the pull-out where Luke and Reggie have already laid themselves out. Julie stirs and rolls over to wrap her arms over Reggie's torso and rest her head on his stomach. Luke watches with a fond smile as Alex wiggles himself in place between Julie's other side and Luke. Alex places an easy hand on Julie's head (because he knows she finds it comforting) while Luke snakes his arm over Alex's waist to best use a space that was intended to only accommodate two but now is asked to fit four.

None of them mind being squished together. Julie sleeps peacefully until morning.

(2)

Julie is sad. A deep, aching sadness that made a home in her a long time ago. There are days that are better, where it doesn't hurt so much, the ache dulled, just barely pushing it's cold past the edges of her bones into the sinew and muscle. But some days it feels all-consuming. World-shattering. Some days she is struck anew with this paralysing grief. The feeling that nothing will ever be okay again.

_Some days_ happen less often in recent times. Her phantoms, her boys, her _family_ \- they help. They can't rid her of the hurt and she wouldn't want them to. She never wants to not keenly feel the empty space where her mom used to be. She doesn't want to forget her. But the boys. They help that constant awareness to be filled by sweet remembering rather than bitter longing. But the bitter longing will always be there.

So _sad_ doesn't quite encompass what she's feeling but it's a linguistic shortcut to express all of these things that she can't verbalise.

On this particular _some day_ , Julie is sitting on the couch (Luke's couch) in her mama's studio, knees under chin. Her face feels numb. It's wet with absentminded tears - grief made manifest.

The cool stillness is broken by a ray of sunshine who calls out, "Julie?"

Reggie. Reggie is here, making the studio a bit brighter, a bit warmer. He turns around a little until he spots Julie, huddled as she is. "Julie! Are you all right?"

He rushes over to her, stopping short of actually touching her. Julie follows him with her eyes, unable to move any other part of her body.

"You're shivering." His voice is gentle.

"Am I?" Julie whispers.

"Yes," Reggie's eyebrows furrow together. "Are you cold?"

Julie shrugs. She's truly not sure.

"I - hang on." Quickly, he pulls his arms out of the sleeves of his leather jacket before draping it over her shoulders, bringing it around to her chin.

As the warmth of the jacket - Reggie's body heat - settles around her, she realises how chilled she had felt. She draws in a long, deep breath, feeling the comfort of his smell and his big-brotherly presence settle around her, anchoring the jacket to her shoulders.

"Thank you, Reggie." Her voice is earnest and she finally turns her head to look at him.

He smiles just a little, creasing his ruddy cheeks. "Of course, Julie."

Julie moves closer to him, leaning her head against his collarbone. His arms come up automatically now that he'd been given permission. He pulls her in tight to his chest, rocking her slightly, humming a low, soothing tune.

Julie isn't okay. But she will be. In the meantime, her bones feel a bit warmer. And if she wears Reggie's jacket for the rest of the day, no one mentions it.

(3)

Just her fucking luck. Here she is, stuck in the school bathroom scrubbing lasagne out of her _white_ shirt cause some kid wasn't watching where they were going. And Flynn isn't even here to help her 'cause she went and caught a cold.

She lets out a long, noisy sigh that is abruptly cut off when Luke poofs in beside her.

"Luke!" Her voice comes out as an undignified squeak and she quickly reigns it in as she darts her eyes around to check that all the stalls are unoccupied. Satisfied that they're alone, she returns her attention to the intruding ghost.

"You can't be here! This is the girls' bathroom."

"I - sorry I didn't mean t-- Julie, what happened to your shirt?" His eyebrows tugged together, giving him a puppy-like expression that Julie finds far too charming.

She looked down at her shirt, still covered in oil and tomato stains that are setting by the minute. Another long sigh leaves her mouth, leeching out some of her anxious frustration, leaving her feeling deflated. "This kid tripped over their own feet and spilt their lunch all over me."

"Are you okay?" His voice is gentle, concerned.

She shrugs back. "Yeah. Nothing's bruised except my ego. And maybe that kid's face where they hit the deck."

Luke's face relaxes a bit, eyes now dancing with mirth.

"Don't laugh! I don't have anything else to wear!"

"I'm not laughing!" he defends. "But, c'mon. You have to admit it's kinda funny."

Julie softens a bit. "Fine," she relents, "It's _kinda_ funny. But that doesn't solve my problem!"

Luke nods very seriously, a thoughtful expression coming over his face. And then his expression clears, a small excited smile curling the corners of his lips. The kind of smile he gets when he solves a problem and he's proud of himself: toothy and bright. It's endearing.

"Here," he says, tugging his flannel off, leaving him in just his sleeveless tee. "You can wear this."

Julie looks at the proffered shirt for a moment. She feels some small but insistent something poking against the walls of her chest. "Th-thanks, Luke. You don't have to-"

"I want to," he interrupts. "I can't let you walk around covered in lunch. Besides, if you change into my shirt I can take yours home with me to soak the stain."

"I-," she's not quite sure what to say. So she settles on, "Thanks." A tender smile graces her lips. "Turn around then," she adds. "I'm not gonna get changed with you watching."

As soon as the words leave her mouth her cheeks begin to blaze with the unintended implications of her statement. Luke coughs awkwardly, cheeks a bit more rosy than usual, and quickly spins around.

As she quickly swaps shirts, buttoning up Luke's baggy flannel, she watches as his head tilts back and forth, studying the bathroom tiles on the wall with rapt attention and drumming his fingers against his legs.

"Okay. You can turn around now."

Luke turns to face her and smiles giddily at the way the sleeves fall past her fingertips and the hem settles just above her knees.

"It's a little big on you."

Julie scowls back at him good-naturedly. "I _know_. Just give me a sec."

He watches in fascination as Julie gathers up and knots the front corners of the shirt so it sits neatly at the top of her jeans. Then she starts trying to roll up the sleeves. _Trying_ being the operative word. But it's a challenge because they're just so damn long.

"Here, let me," he interrupts, stepping into her space. She sucks in a breath.

"Oh. Um, sure." She holds out her arms to him and he begins rolling them up to a decent length, taking the time to make sure they're matching. She feels overwhelmed at the gentle brush of his fingers as they travel up her forearms. The contact sends shivering jolts of electricity along her skin as if a circuit had been completed, allowing energy to move freely between the undefinable start and the infinite end. She feels like she's about to vibrate out of her own skin.

"Good?" he checks once he's finished. His voice is low and soft.

Julie nods mutely.

He takes a step back to size her up and nods appreciatively. "Not too shabby, Jules."

"Um. Thanks!" she squeaks (again) - _God, get it together, Molina -_ and looks at herself in the mirror.

Something about wearing Luke's flannel - skin-warmed and worn in, smelling like him - makes her feel safe and protected and cared for. Like he himself is draped across her shoulders and wrapping around her torso. Also, she looks _good_ in it. Like it was made for her.

"It suits you." Luke interrupts her thoughts as he comes up behind her. They lock eyes through the mirror and Luke's curling smile returns, his eyes auroral.

"Yeah," she says. "It does."

The end-of-lunch bell trills harshly in her ear. Luke steps back, clearing his throat. "Cool. I'll - um -," he picks up the stained shirt, "I'll get this one home to soak."

"Thank you, Luke. I really appreciate it." Her chest feels pumped with helium.

He nods a little, smiling and looking up at her through his lashes. And poofs away.

(+1)

Julie hums contentedly as she toes off her shoes and drops her school bag on her bed. It had been a long, sweaty day at school to top off a long, sweaty week, the California heat having shown up with a vengeance.

She makes her way down to the studio, feeling lighter with the knowledge that she has the whole weekend ahead of her.

The heavy doors to the studio open at her urging. She breathes in deeply the green smell of plants and the metallic tang of guitar strings. And then stops. Blinks slowly and squints her eyes, trying to make sense of what's in front of her.

"Oh, hey, Julie!" Reggie greets her from his spot on the couch. He's leaning forward over a cross-legged Alex, who is seated on the ground, carefully twisting the long hair at the top of his head into braids. And Luke is sitting next to them, guitar across his lap, strumming it quietly. But none of this is what stops her in her tracks.

Alex is wearing what appears to be a mesh tie-dye top, Reggie's top proclaims that _It was all a dream_ , and Luke's blue t-shirt is covered in familiar swirls of white. Those are _her_ shirts. Her _crop tops._ Her eyes quickly skate across Alex and Reggie's stomachs but are quickly pulled away when Luke stands up, placing his guitar to the side.

"Julie! You're home!" Luke exclaims, a puppy dog smile across his face.

"You-You're." She can't quite get words out. The sight of his bared stomach has set her heart to stuttering in 6/8 time, a drumbeat that echoes through her skull.

She realises that her mouth has been hanging open. She snaps it shut.

"You're wearing my clothes." She's addressing all three of them but she's looking at Luke. Her eyes keep flicking down and then back up to his face. She can't help it. She would stop if she could. Luke definitely notices because his smile turns mischievous.

Alex speaks up, a concerned look on his face. "Yeah. I hope that's alright. It's just that it was really warm and we didn't really have anything to wear and-"

"Alex," Julie interrupts, finally coming to her senses and looking away from Luke, "It's fine. I was just surprised. Besides it's not like I haven't borrowed your clothes before."

"Exactly what I said!" Reggie exclaimed. His voice turns a bit milder now though, "And we all really missed you 'cause you've been so busy with school this week so…"

Julie feels tears spring to her eyes and she quickly scrubs them away. "I've missed you guys, too, Reg."

She looks across each of them, making sure not to dwell too long on Luke who's still standing, fiddling with the hem of his (her) shirt. An idea hits her and her eyebrows wiggle teasingly at them.

"Well, in the name of sharing and caring…" She walks across the room to where the boys keep their clothes. She picks up one of Luke's sleeveless t-shirts. Turning her back to them, she quickly exchanges her shirt for his, breathing a sigh of relief as the cool fabric settles around her.

When she turns back around she finds that Luke's mouth is hanging open slightly as if he simply forgot to close it. Alex and Reggie are grinning at him. If not for the way they are positioned it's clear that they would be exchanging knowing looks.

"What?" she shrugs, playing innocent but feeling vindicated.

Luke shakes his head jerkily. "N-nothing. I- nothing." He averts his eyes to the ground but his whole face is red and Julie is delighted to notice that it extends down his neck, under his shirt to his stomach. She presses her lips together to keep a hysterical laugh from bubbling out of her throat unbidden. Her eyes are stuck on Luke again.

Luke looks up at her and his eyes catch on hers. And oh, his _eyes_. If you asked her, she wouldn't quite be able to tell you the colour of them, despite the amount of time she'd spent looking into them over a microphone or a lyric book. Sometimes green, sometimes blue. Right now, wearing her shirt, they're a dazzling, drowning blue.

Reggie breaks the silence. "All done!" He ties off the end of Alex's second braid and pats the top of his head gently. 

"Thanks, Reg," Alex says lightly, drawing Julie's attention. She's impressed with how well Reggie's done.

"Wow, Reg. Where did you learn to braid like that?"

He shrugs a little half-heartedly but his mouth is pulled into a bittersweet curve. "I used to braid my little sister's hair."

Julie nods, giving him a sympathetic look. A beat. "Can you do mine next?"

Reggie's smile broadens into something entirely sweet, the bitterness done away with. "Of course!"

And so Alex shuffles over so that she can take his spot cross-legged and leaning against Reggie's knees. Alex settles himself so that his back is against the cool concrete floor and his head is in Julie's lap. She starts scratching her nails through the short pieces of hair that didn’t make it into the braid.

Luke is still standing where he'd greeted Julie (although this is perhaps a generous term because anyone who knows Luke knows that staying still is not a skill of his and what he does when upright should not be classified as merely _standing_. Perhaps a better term would be wobbling. Or jittering.)

"C'm'ere," she says, patting the ground to the other side of her. Luke practically trips over himself to do as he's told. He sits next to her, stretching his legs out long, pressing his thigh against Julie's.

She places the hand that isn't occupied with Alex's hair atop her thigh, palm up, wiggling her fingers a little. She doesn't look at him but she's trying not to make life harder for Reggie whose tugging on her hair is ginger and slow.

But Luke seems to get the message. He links their hands together pulling them into his lap. Julie feels him trace a fingertip over each of her nails, brushing across the back of her hand, tugging on the ends of her bracelets. He holds her hand as if it contains the entire universe.

Here, connected to each of her boys, she feels safe. Each point of contact feels like a lifeline she hadn't known she needed.

"I love you guys."

And she does. She really, really does.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed that! If you leave a comment I'll love you forever <3
> 
> Some notes:  
> \- the hair braiding is inspired by owen's ig from a while back would recommend for a laugh (https://www.instagram.com/p/CJZBbUuHx0e/?igshid=bdf04bsfqs5i)  
> \- I genuinely have to draw stick figure diagrams to make sure the cuddle piles are feasible/to keep track of where everyone is while writing
> 
> Cool, thanks, love ya, bye!


End file.
